


want you close

by Lizzen



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Interspecies Romance, Missing Scene, sociopath x good girl otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:30:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6508609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzen/pseuds/Lizzen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick's predator act in the museum has ramifications.</p>
            </blockquote>





	want you close

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god what.  
> also, this is a spiritual successor of svilleficrecs' [The Intermittent Kissing Solution](http://svilleficrecs.livejournal.com/764655.html); worth a read for the format alone
> 
> also, many thanks to a&v&d

**MOMENTS BEFORE**

"Nick, I have an idea."

He looks at her, ready to do whatever she asks.

Her eyes are wide but her mouth is set. "And you're not going to like it."

*

**THIRTY MINUTES AFTER**

One of the police officers puts a shock blanket around him and that's when he realizes he's shivering.

Judy's giving her statement as a paramedic wraps her hurt leg with care. She's been given something for the pain because her voice is slurred and her eyes are duller than normal.  She catches his eye and nods, a half smile on her face.

Moments ago, he had his paws on her and his teeth bared.

He pulls the blanket a little tighter. His heart is still racing and his thoughts are a spiral of shame. He's thinking of her tearful eyes and the trembling of her limbs and the tremor in her voice as she begged him, said his name. He's thinking about what he said to her weeks ago, his anger at being damned just because he is a predator by birth.

His problem is: he did like it. He liked it a lot.

*

**JUST BEFORE**

Nick considers that there's always a possibility that they won't even have to perform; there's always a possibility that something different and crazier will happen. Hope calms the unease in his chest. Something crazier has to happen, it always does.

And then Bellwether lifts the nighthowler gun and aims it at him with a particularly malicious glee.

Just before the blue hits him, Nick holds his breath for half a moment, and hates himself all over again.

Then he lets go, and he lets his vision turn red.

*

**WEEKS EARLIER**

He is having a hard time forgetting Judy's words at the press conference. Her sweet face and serious tone and damning statements. Impossible how someone could be so cruel; or, or is it that he can be brought this low again by someone else's fear.

Yes, he is a predator. Yes, it's in his biology, his DNA. Yes, his is one step away from the wildness of his ancestors. It's not like he doesn't sense it. A fox is a fox.

His teeth and claws are sharp, meant for tearing. His reflexes are honed; he's agile and quick in a chase. He's clever, like most of his kind. It's a shrewd combination intended for the hunt, the kill.

When he thinks about Judy, when he really profoundly thinks about her, there's an ache in his belly for the old ways, an unfamiliar hunger. How could she damn him in so much? How could such a small thing make him unstable about the basic tenants of his self?

And how could he let her do it?

*

**A FEW MOMENTS AFTER**

She's all triumph and broad smiles and half sing songing: "It's called a hustle, sweetheart!" He's smiling too because they've won and she's got her arm around him and his arm is around her and he can feel her warmth pressed against his fur. She's so close, she's so soft, smelling like prey and elation and relief. As he breathes it in, he hopes she can forgive him.

*

**EARLIER**

"It's called a hustle, sweetheart," he croons and feels such a surge of glee. The hustle is his life, has been his life since forever. It's a little touch of bliss and a huge swath of righteousness and the tiny bunny is too flustered to retort.

Though, he'd like –

He'd like to hear her retort.

(When it comes hours later, he's one part horrified, and a whole lot impressed. When he thinks about it days later, he realizes _that's_ when she became more delicious than the hustle. She's a damning, miraculous thing.)

*

**DAYS LATER**

She's fallen asleep (an accident), and she's so quiet and sweet and he misses her company when she's asleep, but she's still healing and he respects it. He's near enough so that it's safe to reach out and touch her, you know, like partners do. Reach out and touch her soft fur and smile a little when she makes a nice, sleepy noise in response. That's enough to allow him to touch her with a little more courage; petting her warm fur in gentle, even strokes. A calm seeps into his bones and he forgets himself, petting this strange and wonderful woman as she dreams.

He decides he can feel bad about this later (and oh, oh he does.)

*

**DURING**

"Nick," she says, and her nose trembles.

*

**MOMENTS BEFORE**

Judy knows, she always knows, and she sneaks a look at him to assure him that it will all be okay and he wishes he were dead.

*

**A WEEK LATER**

The whole thing puts him off blueberries.

And meat, which ends ups being a real problem. He gets so shaky that Judy hauls him off to a meat market and watches as he eats something fresh. She's standing on her good leg since the other one is still on the mend.

(He remembers the smell of her blood when she tore her leg up at the museum.)

"You're a real idiot," she says, looking worried.

"I'm a real idiot," he echoes between bites.

He watches as she doesn’t know quite where to look, watches her gaze skip from scene to scene; predators purchasing and consuming what it is that they eat. He's pretty certain she's the only prey present. Funny, he thinks, funny and completely irresponsible. She's here because of him.

When he's done, his paws aren't shaking anymore and Judy's unease at where they are is becoming more obvious (she's talking in short, unintelligible sentences). It doesn’t quite internalize because he's feeling better. Better than he's felt in weeks, even. "Wanna get out of here?" he says and it comes out a lot more like a drawl with intent than a question.

She spins so fast away from him, headed out. "With you? Always," she says over her shoulder, and walks with a limp. His eyes linger on her neck for a moment too long, so he shoves his shades over his eyes and wishes he could wash the stench of meat out of his fur.

*

**A WEEK LATER AND SOME CHANGE**

"Are we okay?" she asks.

He doesn't expect it because he thought was pretty slick, after all. A sly fox is a sly fox.

"We. Are. Great." He punctuates each word by punching finger guns in the air. He's cool, he's so cool, he thinks.

Her stare lingers longer than he's comfortable with and then her eyes soften. "You can talk to me, Nick," she says with that appealing openness that he's fallen into before, and he is overwhelmed with the urge to tell her everything, everything on his mind. Every fear and longing and desire aching to tumble out of his heart and into her, again and again until she sees him, understands him.

Instead: the finger guns are out, he blows on them both, and holsters them. Like a badass.

She makes a W sign with her paws and mouths "whatever". 

*

**BEFORE**

(She looks into his eyes and thinks to herself: I trust him, I trust him, I trust—)

*

**DURING**

He crouches low, with his hind legs tensed to pounce, and his heart beats like a drum. She's half cowering, half fleeing. He can taste her fear and her bleeding leg; the smell of it almost overwhelms him.

They're acting, of course, this is an act, this is play, this is not real.

And yet.

With an inelegant pounce, he destroys a fake deer baby into shreds of cotton and fur. Spitting what he can out, he has the taste for prey now. That hunger always niggling at the back of his mind is more present; he's eager for tear through fur and skin to get to the sweetness underneath. That terrible crunch of bone and the oozing of a life lost. A mess of a meal; a precious commodity.

His blood is running hotter than fire now. This is not allowed, he thinks, and it thrills him in all his darkest places.

She gasps out, quietly, "I know you're stronger than this," and it shakes him a little. If he was allowed to speak words in this stageplay, he would say: "am I?"

He leaps at her, a race with an inevitable conclusion. He is so much bigger and stronger than she is, and everyone knows it. His paws grasp her and his teeth are out.

She's thrashing in his grip, and it's painful to watch. He's doing this to her; no, no, he's actually holding her with a touch of tenderness. She's the one acting the most, acting in terror, like he is this great fiend to be feared. This strange performance half overwhelms him, half energizes him. She's the prey to be eaten but he's the one feeling consumed. He wants, oh he wants.

Judy says his name and turns her head and her neck is there, presented to him like a gift.

Opening his mouth, he sucks in the air, smells her fear mingle with something else, something sweeter than fear. _Oh sweet cheese and crackers_ , he thinks. And the ache in his belly makes more sense all of a sudden.

He closes his teeth over her neck, lightly, softly, without breaking skin, and in that time, he recognizes what it is that he really feels. This heady desire of his to consume her is much more complicated and a whole lot less literal. His body wants her, he wants her.

When he backs away as she play acts death, he holds the feeling close, closer in, hoping she doesn't smell it on him.

*

**AFTER**

He wonders how much she knew during. How much she guessed.

*

**HOURS AFTER**

"You. Were. Amazing," she says, still a little drugged and her eyes are enormous. "I was halfway hustled myself. Mmm, rabbit tartar on the menu." She giggles and he forces a smile.

"You weren't so bad yourself," he says, taking her hand and thinks: she's like sunlight.

Her smile falters just a smidge, and she squeezes his hand tight. "It's okay," she says. "We're okay."

"We're okay," he lies.

*

**A MONTH AGO**

Nick is happy. Life is reasonable and it all makes sense. There's a few vixens to charm and money to be made. He's happy; couldn't wish for anything else.

*

**A DAY LATER**

"You're a fucking mess, you ugly shit. And we have things to do." Tiny and full of white fur, piss, and vinegar, Finnick is all work as usual.

"I'm joining the fuzz," Nick says, helplessly.

"You cunt." And Finnick laughs till there's tears.

"I know."

"I don't know whether to be proud of you for tapping that tiny ass or to be proud of you for making something of yourself, asshole. Fuck it, I'm just proud. Also you owe me three thousand."

"You'll get it."

"I better."

"And I'm not tapping that ass."

Finnick makes a very rude sound and Nick makes a very rude gesture.

Later, when he tells Judy a shorthand version of the story, she laughs with delight covering her whole face and he knows she's the best thing in his life. This is something he cannot fuck up. 

*

**SOMETIME AFTER**

Being a police officer is surprisingly awesome. There was a reason all those years ago he wanted to join the junior rangers. He's making a difference every day, and a lot of it involves a little hustle here and there.

Being Judy's partner is. Well. It's something else entirely. She's under his skin, in his bloodstream, making him crazy, and making him whole. 

*

**SOME WEEKS LATER**

He catches her stare at herself in the mirror. Her head is tilted to the side and she's gazing at her neck. He holds his breath as she runs her paw along her neck fur and shivers a little.

If they were just friends, if this was a many days ago, he would have rolled his eyes and thought of a million other things. As it was, he is grateful for the shades over his eyes and that she won't see how his claws are out.

"I wonder," she says, sounding distracted and far away. "What would have happened if you were really hit by a nighthowler. What would have happened."

"Mm hmm," he replies. He's wondered this himself.  Considered what a mess he would have made.

"I wonder what it would have been like if you bit me. You know. How it would feel."

"Carrots," he says.

"You should bite me right now," she says, turning to look at him and letting out a sweet peal of delight. "I dare you to do it."

"Judy," he says.

She grins. Mouths _dare you_. (Judy Hopps does not know when to quit.)

Before he even realizes it, he's up in her space and grabbing her, pulling her up so they are face to face, nose to nose. She's caught in his arms.

She reaches up and moves his shades; he can't hide his eyes now.

His teeth are out, and he bares them a little till she looks… until she looks.

It's amazing; she looks determined not terrified. (He's the one scared to pieces). _This woman_ , he thinks, and knows he'll follow her anywhere.

"Do it," she says, and what can he do but acquiesce? Nick closes his mouth over her neck, like he did before, but this time, this time he presses in. Just a little.

She makes a noise that is not quite a gasp. He's worldly enough to know what kind of noise that is and it takes everything he has not to clamp down further.

Instead, in half a heartbeat, he's got her against a wall, trapped against him.  

And if there was such a thing as a fire alarm in the brain, his would be going off now, loud and shrill.

Her name is on his lips and it's, it's— he's not sure what this is. So he adjusts, a smidge, so that it's his tongue that runs along her neck, not his teeth.

She tastes like prey, and it's so sweet.

"Nick," she says again, and he breathes quietly in response, his hot breath against her fur. Smelling her.

She's breathing hard with her mouth open, and then she begins to babble. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I put you up to this, to all of this, and this is, well it's. I'm not sure what it is, and Nick, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

He licks her again and she shuts up, shuddering a little against him.

It takes him some time to finally say: "I wanted this."

"Oh," she breathes.

He breathes as well and the silence is all consuming.

Finally, she says: "Then you should probably kiss me."

He looks at her and her eyes are wide. "I mean, if you'd like to kiss me," she continues. "Only if you'd—"

She makes a muffled sound when he does, when he kisses her, but she swallows the words away.

*

**NOW**

There's a bunny in his life. An irritating, jerk of a bunny. Clever as a fox and sharp as a whip. Pretty as a summer's day. He used to hate her a little, but now, now he finds that he also loves her a lot.


End file.
